


The Death of Me

by sh_wright890



Series: Wild World [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Deep Conversations, Hickeys, I suck at tagging, M/M, dealing with more emotions, eren cares, eren is also nosey, jean is a really big baby, mentions of the other general characters, more of a filler chapter, sort of cuddling, starting a relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 20:34:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9785012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sh_wright890/pseuds/sh_wright890
Summary: "You've got a pocketful of reasons why you're here tonightSo, baby, tonight just be the death of meShow me your love, your loveBefore the world catches up'Cause there's always time for second guesses, I don't wanna knowIf you're gonna be the death of me, that's how I wanna go""Collar Full" by Panic! At The Disco





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this is an actual thing. I'd toyed around with the idea of a part two, but I'm not good at keeping things simple in terms of plot. There were literally too many other things I wanted to do with this for me to just leave it alone. So here we are. I feel like this is more of a filler to set us up for ideas I have that I want to put in the next chapter. 
> 
> The title is (obviously) from "Collar Full" by P!ATD. I couldn't decide what I wanted the title to be, and basically, I saved a song that has to do with control and pain for later. Yikes.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Comments are always welcome! My Tumblr is live-love-music1 if you wanna talk about anything, really. I love hearing from you.
> 
> \--Shelby

Cold.

It was really cold when I woke up. Like, “what the fuck, bro, isn’t it supposed to be spring already?” It felt like it was twenty degrees around me and like I’d only been given a space heater and blankets to keep me warm.

Flopping onto my side, I grumbled and pulled the blankets around my shoulders, but when I did that, my butt got extremely chilly. “What the  _ fuck _ ?” I whispered to myself. There was a sound of muffled laughter somewhere in front of me. I cracked an eye open to find Marco propped up on his elbow, and he was looking at me. 

Well,  _ that _ explained the heat.

I closed my eye and grumbled about the cold which caused him to laugh at me some more. I was totally ready to call him a long list of profanities for finding amusement in my freezing ass, but he tenderly brushed the hair from my face, and the words dissolved in my throat.

“Did you sleep okay?” he murmured.

Scooting closer to him--just for warmth purposes, I swear--I nodded. “Yeah. ‘Cept for the whole freezing my ass off part.”

“Mm, wouldn’t want that now, would we?” His warm, warm hand settled on my waist then trailed up and down my back before finally settling right on my buttcheek.

“You’re enjoying this far too much.” I opened my eyes.

He flashed me a Hollywood smile. “Maybe.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fucking shameless is what you are.” If it was possible, his eyes got brighter. I smacked his chest. “What time is it?”

He grabbed my wrist and kissed my palm. “About half past five.”

Humming, I slid my hand up and hooked it around his neck. Gently, I scratched at the hair at the nape of his neck. His eyes shuttered closed, and he absentmindedly rubbed up and down my arm. “I missed you,” I murmured.

Marco opened his eyes and moved to lean over me, so I was laying on my back. “I missed you too.” The backs of his fingers brushed across my cheek. “A lot. You looked so sullen today, and I--”

“Hey.” I nudged my forehead to his. “I understand. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

Biting his lip, he nodded. “Okay.”

Tentatively, I leaned forward some more and pecked his lips. They were still warm and soft. It was strange. I’d never kissed him before this weekend, yet it felt natural--as it I’d been doing it for years. Of course, I was nervous every time I did because what if he didn’t want it? What if I was being too clingy? 

Marco smiled and bit his lip, and it was so cute how happy he looked. I hugged his neck--also only for warmth purposes--and kissed just above his eyebrow on a scar he’d gotten from falling off his bike forever ago. 

“We should get dressed,” he whispered against my cheek.

Um. Right. I was still naked, and I was insecure now without lust hazing my mind. The idea of dropping the blankets made my chest clench. So much for not being worried about Marco seeing me naked. 

As if sensing my apprehension in the way my fingers stopped playing with his hair, he pulled back to look at my face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I just…” I wrinkled my nose and looked to the side. 

His fingers turned my head back, so I had no choice but to look at him. His eyebrows were turned up in the middle. “What’s wrong, Jean?”

My cheeks started to heat up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, ignoring the feeling of my privates pressed against his abdomen. 

Being my best friend definitely had its perks, like being able to practically read my mind all the time--or at least my emotions. He balanced on his elbows and pressed his cheek to mine. His lips were warm when they pressed behind my ear. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked quietly. “What’s bothering you?”

Butterflies fluttered in my belly. _He called me_ baby _._ God, I really, really liked the sound of that. I was his baby now. Maybe it wouldn’t be forever, but I was definitely going to enjoy it while I could.  “N-nothing. I uh…” My fingers kneaded his sides nervously, and my voice was quite a bit softer the next time I spoke. “You’re really, um, gorgeous, and I… I’m… not.”

I heard him inhale and exhale slowly. “I see.” He pulled back enough to slowly press kisses to the side of my face as he talked. “Jean, I’ve known you for years. Obviously, as a third grader, I didn’t think of you as attractive, but as you got older… I ended up having a major crush on you.” He laughed to himself. “It was actually quite embarrassing. You were on my mind more than I cared to admit, and who could blame me?” He ran his hand down my side and rubbed my hipbone. 

“You shot up and lost all your baby fat.” I groaned inwardly at that. I really didn’t want to remember  _ that _ . “Then you started changing. You weren’t some cute little kid anymore. You got, well,  _ hot _ .” His cheeks were pink. “Very.” He bit his lip. “You ended up being on my mind more and more, even if the intent wasn’t so, ah,  _ innocent _ .”

The air seemed to be sucked out of my lungs. My mind ran rampant with ideas about what he could  _ possibly _ mean about that, and if he meant what I thought he did… 

I swallowed and looked up at his nervous face. “You really mean that?”

“The part about my masturbation habits?”

My face and ears turned pink when I snorted, but I ended up laughing. “All of it.” Oh god. He  _ did _ mean what I thought he was saying.  _ Breathe, Jean. _

He smiled at me and cupped my cheek. “I really mean all of it. You’re really attractive, and I’m lucky to get to see you in my bed.”

I looked left. Then I looked to the right. “I hope you mean metaphorically because you shouldn’t be sleeping in my barn.” 

That made him laugh. “Yes, Jean. I sleep in the loft of your barn every night because I simply cannot be more than 100 yards away from you for an extended period of time.”

I rolled my eyes and smacked his arm. “Jerk. Get off me.”

He planted a sloppy kiss-turned-raspberry on my cheek before rolling away. I wiped my face and complained about how  _ gross  _ that was-- _ ew _ , Marco. He ignored my comments and said, “You can wear my button down shirt for now.” Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck. When I looked lost, he continued. “I uh… sort of made a mess of your shirt.”

Oh, right. That.

I grabbed my underwear and jogging pants, sliding them on quickly--fuck, it was cold. Marco handed me his red, flannel, button-down shirt, and I slipped it over my shoulders. Honestly, I looked like a mess--hair all fucked up, jogging pants, baggy shirt, and shivering like a rat--but I couldn’t find it in me to care. 

His shirt smelled like him--mahogany from all the time spent in his dad’s woodshop and some soap his mom gets him from Bath & Body Works because he’s a goober that likes their men’s body wash. It was really big on me around the shoulders since he was  _ way _ more buff than I was. The sleeves were a bit long, but I didn’t bother to roll up the cuffs. The bottom edge went well beyond my waist.

I was shaken from my reverie when lips pressed against my temple. Blinking a few times, I looked at Marco. He was blushing. “Sorry. I’m just excited I get to do that now.” I opened my mouth to say something else, but he was already going down the ladder before I could utter a sound. Instead, I was left there with a stupid smile. 

* * *

In the house, I threw my shirt into the washer with some of my other clothes. I’d put on one of my t-shirts, but I still had Marco’s flannel. I liked it too much to take it off. It made me feel small in a good way. It engulfed me in warmth, and it was like a bubble of Marco surrounding me. I really,  _ really _ liked it.

When I walked into the kitchen, I found him at the counter with two mugs of what smelled like hot chocolate sitting in front of him, and you wanna know what he was doing? He was  _ reading the paper _ like a  _ fucking nerd.  _ He nudged a mug toward me when I approached. 

“Anything interesting?” I asked, cocking a hip against the granite. 

His eyes flicked to me. They slowly went from his shirt, up to my head, and finally down to my toes before going back to his newspaper. His gaze left me somewhat breathless. It was almost as if I could feel his eyes burning my insides like some sort of radioactive x-ray machine. “Yep,” he replied simply.

“Oh, yeah?” My voice cracked partway through. Fuck me.

He nodded and took a drink of his hot chocolate. “Feel free to sit or something.”

I cleared my throat and rolled my eyes. “I should be telling you that. It’s  _ my _ house, loser.”

He raised an eyebrow in my direction. Clearly, he was amused. “You were taking too long, so I took it upon myself to make myself comfortable.”

“Obviously.” I took a drink. It wasn’t too hot, but it was made with water--not milk--so he must’ve used the Keurig and added ice cubes to it. He knew I liked mine almost room temperature while he’d rather have his scalding. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He lightly kicked my ankle. “I might have to get home soon. Your mom will be home any second, and I said I’d watch the kids tonight, so Mom and Dad could go to the store.”

I nodded reluctantly. “Okay…”

He folded the newspaper and set it aside. “Before I go, I think we should--y’know--talk about this.” 

I hummed in agreement. We both sat in silence for a few more moments. 

“W-would you be my boyfriend?” he said in one big rush as if he’d lose his nerve if he said it any slower.

The gears in my brain halted, and then they started whirring so fast he could probably hear them. Boyfriend? I hadn’t thought about dating for my high school years since none of the girls I was interested in was at all interested in me--and trust me, they made that abundantly clear. And I’d never thought about any guys before. The state I lived in was sort of a toss up between conservatives and liberals, and since I lived in a somewhat decent sized city, people were more likely to be liberal. That didn’t mean I knew what my mom would say if she found out. Or my brother. 

He took my hand. “You don’t have to answer right now. I know it’s a lot to think about. As far as I know, you haven’t really questioned your sexuality. Or you might’ve and not told me, and that’s fine.” His thumb rubbed small circles against the back of my hand. “I’m okay with waiting. If you want me to, that is.”

I nodded slowly and cleared my throat. The last thing I wanted was for my voice to start cracking in the middle due to my old friend, Uncertainty. “Marco, I really do like you. I’m not lying when I say that. It’s just… I need some time. You’re the only guy I’ve liked, and I didn’t even know until I lost you.” I was frustrated by my inability to string together the right words to say exactly what I was feeling and thinking. “But I don’t  _ want _ to wait. Like, logically, I need to figure things out, but emotionally, I want to try to be with you.”

The idea of being with my best friend sounded blissful. I had more than a pocketful of reasons why it was such a good idea, how well we’d get along, how easy it would be to be with him. I can only imagine how long he’s waited for me to even realize his feelings for me. The last thing I wanted to do was make him wait some more, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready to give him what he deserved. 

Humming softly, he flipped my hand over and started tracing the lines etched into my palm. It was way more distracting than it should’ve been. “I can give you time if you need it. I’ve been waiting for… awhile. I can wait a bit longer.” He flashed me a smile. “You’re worth it.”

Groaning, I scrubbed and tugged on my hair. “Marco, when you  _ say _ shit like that, it makes me not want to wait even more.”

“Sorry?”

I reached for him. “Don’t fucking apologize.” My fingers fisted in his shirt, and I heard him  _ squeak _ as I pulled him towards me to kiss him. Our lips met, and there weren’t any fireworks or anything like that, but does there really have to be? I know I’d rather be with somebody that’s soothing instead of fiery. Wildfires may burn for days, but the softly babbling brook isn’t gonna change its course anytime soon. 

It was quite nice, actually. Despite my fierce attack, his lips moved slowly against mine, urging me to take my time instead of rush through things.  _ I’m still here, _ they said.  _ I’m not going anywhere. _ His breath warmed my cheek when he moved to press kisses to my skin, and my eyes fluttered at the sheer tenderness of it. 

Until I heard the lock on the front door click.

Fear--there was no other word to describe it, really--stabbed at my heart, and I jerked back from him so hard I almost fell off my stool. My heart was beating harder than was necessary. I kept my gaze focused on the wooden floor. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to see what look was on Marco’s face yet. 

“Jean?” my mom called. From the sound of it, she had several bags of groceries. I heard her curse to herself under her breath. “Can you get the rest of the bags out of the car, please?”

“Y-yeah.”

I stood up, eyes still on the ground and felt a hand grab and squeeze my fingers. My eyes flitted up on their own to see Marco looking at me earnestly.  _ It’s okay, _ he mouthed. Of course, he’d know I felt bad about pulling away so abruptly.  _ I’m not mad. _

Biting my lip, I nodded. His lips tilted up on the corners into a smile, and he got up to help Mom too. 

“Oh! Hello, Marco.” He relieved her of the bags she was holding in one of her hands. At least we knew where I got my “one trip or die trying” philosophy. “You’re such a dear. Are you staying for dinner?”

He smiled. “Not tonight, Laura. Mom wants me home.”

I got the rest of the groceries--two small bags and case of bottled water--and came back inside to help put things away. Marco was chatting easily with my mom, and she lapped it up. She adored him because she thought he was a good influence on me. It also didn’t hurt that he was super nice to her.

When I started cutting up an onion to make something for dinner, she took the knife from me and patted my cheek. “I’ve got it, sweetheart. You go visit with Marco until he has to leave.” She turned around to face my freckled friend. “I’m glad you’re here. He was in such a funk the other day, and you always put him in a good mood.” I hoped it was my imagination that she winked, but she was in the corner of my vision, and I decided to believe she wouldn’t do something so embarrassing. 

“ _ Really _ ?” I asked. “Did you  _ have _ to go there? Jesus.”

She laughed and bumped me out of the way. “Get out of here.”

I rolled my eyes and washed my hands to get all the onion off them, hoping my face wasn’t as red as it felt. Marco was watching me evenly when I looked up. We headed to my room without me having to say anything else to him. 

Once we got there, he paused in my doorway and looked at my bed. I  sat on it and pulled my legs up, resting my chin on my knees. My room wasn’t small, but with Marco looking at me in my bed the way he was, it made the walls seem closer together than normal. Slowly, he entered and shut the door behind him. I scooted over to make room for him, and he sat on the edge.

“I-I’m sorry,” I said quietly, voice muffled by my knees. “I’m really sorry. I just--”

Marco turned to face me. “You don’t have to apologize, Jean.”

We looked at each other for a moment. I bit my lip. “I want to try, Marco, I really do.”

He moved up to lean against the wall next to me. “I know you do.” He took my hand and started playing with it when I rested my head on his shoulder. “We don’t have to tell anybody if you don’t want to. Not right now, at least.” His fingers traced the veins along the sensitive skin on the inside of my wrist.

“Are you sure?” I looked at him, and he looked back at me with a small smile.

“Yeah, I’m sure. It’ll be difficult for me to keep my hands off you at school, but this way, I can keep coming over whenever and not worry about keeping doors open and whatnot.” He raised a teasing eyebrow. “As long as you can keep quiet.”

I scoffed, thankful for how fast the tension--at least on my end--melted away. “Wow, I’m so offended. Of  _ course _ , I can keep quiet. It’s  _ you  _ that--” Marco snorted loudly and started laughing. I simply gave him a totally unamused look. “Whatever.” I crossed my arms and huffed.

He nudged me with his shoulder. “You love me, don’t even.”

“Whatever,” I repeated with a roll of my eyes.

“So does this mean I can play ‘Careless Whisper’ from a boombox on my shoulders outside your window sometime?”

“ _ Please, don’t. _ ”

He laughed more and more, and I marveled at how his face crinkled with happiness at such small things, at his dumb jokes, at my disgusted look. I liked the way the mattress jiggled from his laughter, and I liked the feeling of his warm body pressing against my shoulder. His voice warmed my usually drafty room, and my house felt just this much more like a home. 

His giggles finally died down, and he bit his lip around a smile. “If you keep your face that, it’ll stick, y’know.”

My scowl deepened. “That’s an old wive’s tale.”

“Alright, fine.” He reached up and smoothed his thumb between my eyes and along my eyebrows. All the faces I made on a daily basis made the muscles somewhat sore--not to mention the crying I did earlier--and I was prone to headaches at times. Marco’s touch was like getting a massage on your shoulders when you’ve lifted weights the day before. “Don’t do it because I like your smile.”

Gently, I swatted his hand away. “Don’t dudes get their heads bit off when they tell girls they should smile more?”

“Yeah, but you’re a guy.”

“I thought I was supposed to be your damsel.”

His lips twitched at the corners like he wanted to smile that stupid, goofy smile of his, but his expression stayed neutral. “You’re going to have to grow your hair out. I like my damsels with hair I can swing from.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I know you like Flynn Rider, and he’s in, like, all of your wettest dreams, but I would  _ not _ make a good Rapunzel.”

At that, he outright snorted. Loudly. We both ended up laughing at that until he poked my arm. “You’re right--there isn’t much of a filter between your mind and mouth. Flynn Rider knows when to shut up.”

I rested my palm on my chest. “Ouch.”

Before I could think of anything else witty to say, he snatched my hand and pressed baby kisses against my palm and down my middle finger. My thoughts fizzled up and died before they were even fully formed. The chemistry between us was glaringly obvious to me now, and I was stupid to have not noticed it before. His lips somewhere as innocent as my palm consumed all my attention.

I’d known for a really long time that Marco had quite a bit of weight over me, but I didn’t realize the extent of it until just recently. If he told me to go run outside naked, I’d do it without a second thought. Marco was so trustworthy, though, and careful with everything. That’s why he had so much power over me, I guess. I knew he wasn’t about to make me do something like jump off a bridge, so my heart just sort of… became his. 

If Marco was somebody else, I’d be terrified, but Marco was  _ Marco _ , and I trusted him wholeheartedly. However, my heart was probably going to burst from all the affection I was receiving, but if he was going to be the death of me, I was more than happy to go. 

“I really do have to get home,” he murmured against the side of my ring finger, his breath warm against my knuckles. 

I wanted nothing more than to tell him to stay with me. I wanted more of his love. Now that I’d known what it was like, I’d become greedy. “Text--” I stopped and cleared my throat when my voice cracked. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

He smiled faintly and kissed the skin between my thumb and index finger a few more times before he held my hand to his chest and kissed my cheek. My eyes fluttered shut, and I wondered yet again if my life was turning into some young adult novel. Or worse--a fanfiction.

“Wait.” I leaned forward and started to slide his flannel off my shoulders.

He waved a hand, and I stopped. “Keep it.”

There was no ceremony when he left, just the quiet click of the door shutting all the way since he knew how much I hated having it open, like, even an inch. No sad, dramatic music played in the background. The sun didn’t get blocked by a cloud. There was only the sound of him telling my mom goodnight and his car pulling out of the driveway. 

With a sigh, I got up. I had a lot of homework to do from my haze today, but I was still tired. 

_ I’m sorry, bed, but you’re going to have to wait a little longer, baby. _ I looked at my bed mournfully, and it seemed to stare back at me with inviting arms, but I went downstairs before I was tempted to cover up and fall asleep.

Downstairs, Mom was perched on a stool at the counter. She looked up when she heard me. “Hi, baby. How was your day?”

I sat down on another stool and pulled out a textbook to start working. “God, where do I begin?” I mumbled to myself. 

She laughed. “Oh, yes. High school. I can’t imagine all the stress you kids are under nowadays.” 

“No kidding.” I  _ could’ve _ clarified that it had nothing to do with the amount of work I had to do or all the standards forced upon teenagers now, but it was much simpler to let it go. Trying to explain that my best friend and I had broken up and then we made up and had sex really wasn’t something I was ready to talk about. 

She pecked at her phone and checked the stove occasionally while I worked for a while before there was a knock at the door. My heart stalled in my chest because  _ it could be Dad, and I didn’t want Mom to see him yet. _

Mom went to get up, but I scrambled out of my seat first, nearly knocking it over in the process. “I’ve got it!” I yelled on the way to the door, and I hated how my voice sounded like somebody was yanking on my balls.  I knew if I turned around, Mom would look totally confused by my behavior.

When I got to the front, I braced myself and opened the door, prepared to say,  _ You’re not welcome here. Go away, _ but it wasn’t Dad. 

It was Eren Jaeger. 

I blinked hard a few times to make sure I wasn’t spontaneously going blind. “Eren?”

“No, it’s Jesus. Can I come in?”

Stunned, I stepped back. Sure, he’d been to my house several times, but it was always for a good reason--like working on a project or practicing our ground balls. This was totally unannounced and unexpected and very un-Eren-like. 

Eren was obviously a bit uncomfortable standing just inside my doorway because his hands were jammed into his pockets, and his shoulders were hunched defensively. 

Mom popped her head around the corner and smiled. She adored having any of my friends over since, y’know, I didn’t usually  _ have _ friends to hang out with most of the time other than at school. “Oh, hello, Eren!” she cooed. “How have you been?”

He smiled back at her. He’d never admit it, but he really liked her. “I’ve been good, thank you.” Pause. “You wouldn’t happen to have any more of those cookies would you?”

She laughed at his sheepishness. “Of course.” Her figure disappeared for a few moments, and she returned with two cookies wrapped up in a napkin. They were her recipe for sugar cookies, and she sent them with me to school often. Despite her having to work more than the average nine-to-five, she always found time to come to bake and be a supportive mother. 

“ _ Thank you _ .” Eren wasted no time in devouring one of the cookies. 

“I’ll leave you two alone.” She ruffled my hair and left. I wasn’t sure if I should’ve been grateful for the space or not. 

“Do you always ask people for food when you walk through the door?”

He looked up at me. “Are you always a little pussy?”

I looked to the side and sighed like on  _ The Office _ . I should’ve known not to say anything. “Not to sound rude, but--”

“What am I doing here?” he asked.

“Um. Yeah. Not that you aren’t welcome here or anything.” Things weren’t normally this weird, but his almost nervous demeanor was making me fidget. 

He waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, I know. I just came by to see if you were okay.” His eyes met mine and held the contact. “You weren’t exactly yourself. Plus, it looked like you were about to cry half the time. Unless you were constipated. You weren’t, were you?” He made a face. 

I rubbed the side and back of my neck with my hand. “I wasn’t constipated, Eren,” I said, but my tone held no bite. I was actually touched that he’d noticed and came to check up on me. “I was just…” Letting out a sigh, I decided that it was pointless to lie to him. He’d find out sooner or later. “Marco and I were fighting.”

His eyebrows shot up like he couldn’t believe that was even a sentence in the English language. “Nuh uh.”

I nodded. 

“No shit?” He pulled his hands out of his pocket and crossed them over his chest, his face fascinated. “What’s that even like?” He squinted at the wall behind me and said to himself, “Marco and Jean arguing,” then shook his head as if to dispell the thought. 

I gave a tiny shrug. “It sucked. I didn’t realize how much time I spent with him until he was mad at me.”

“Dude, any of us could’ve told you how much time you spend together.” He rolled his eyes. “Like a married couple, I swear.”

My heart thumped loudly for a moment in my chest.

“What were you fighting about? What did you do?”

I gestured with my hands like  _ what the hell? _ “What do you mean ‘What did you do?’ I didn’t do anything!”

He arched an eyebrow. “Uh huh.” Before I could open my mouth to say anything, his eyes zeroed in on something below my head. “What the fuck is that?”

“What’s what?” I touched my hand to my neck.

He yanked my hands away and got all up in my personal space to tug my collar aside and look at my neck. “ _ What the fuck are these? _ ”

My face and ears heated up in what was bound to be an ungodly flush. “Keep it  _ down _ , Eren. Jesus Christ.” I pushed him firmly away from me. 

He blinked at me a few times. “Either I’m not smart enough to connect the dots, or you aren’t telling me everything.”

“You’re just stupid,” I deadpanned.

“Jean…”

“You can’t  _ make _ me.”  _ Wow, Jean. Way to sound like you’re in third grade again. _

He uncrossed his arms and glanced to the living room as if  _ that _ was the reason why I didn’t want to tell him where I’d gotten all the hickeys. 

Hickies. Oh god. What if Mom had seen them before Eren had? I pulled Marco’s flannel around me tighter. So much for being quiet about things. Mom finding out from seeing the marks on my skin certainly wasn’t keeping it on the down-low.

“Come outside. We can talk out there.”

I squinted at Eren because how could he be so sure I’d actually talk to him? But I slipped on my coat and shoes and followed him anyway. There was no way he’d leave until I appeased him. He was irritatingly stubborn sometimes. 

So there we were, staring each other down in the cold as the last of the day’s light disappeared. The coat covered up most of the skin on my neck, and hopefully, there weren’t marks further up by my jaw. 

“Either you tell me or I’ll beat you up,” he said simply.

“What? You’re crazy. Why do you think I’d tell you now?”

“Because I can say you started it when your mom comes out, and I’d tell her about the horrible mood you were in today. I just  _ happened _ to be here when you snapped and needed to let out a little steam.”

Eren wasn’t a generally manipulative person, but every once in awhile he could get somebody and get them good. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

“Why do you even want to know so bad?”

“Blackmail, mostly. But I also am just genuinely curious.”

Wow. I grumbled. I’d just admitted this myself. How was I supposed to explain this to Eren fucking Jaeger of all people? “I hate you.”

“Fine, I’ll start with something else. Did you have sex with them?”

“How the fuck is that something different?” I kicked my toe against the dirt. 

His eyebrows rose. “You  _ did _ , didn’t you?”

I shot him my nastiest glare. It wasn’t surprising that he could read me so well--we’d known each other since kindergarten--but that didn’t make it any easier to accept the things he was figuring out. 

“Is it somebody I know?” He shook his head almost to himself. “It has to be. I know everybody.”

“You know, it could’ve been with somebody from a different school.”

“No. You wouldn’t be so reluctant to tell me if it was.”

“Hey, crazy thought: Maybe I don’t want to tell you because I hate you?” Not  _ completely _ true, but he already knew that. 

He started pacing. It was honestly getting ridiculous. This wasn’t even that big of a deal. Besides, he would probably end up opening his big, fat, stupid mouth and telling everybody. 

While Eren kept rambling to himself, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and opened a message from Marco.  **Made it home okay** , it said, riddled with a bunch of totally cheesy emojis. 

I had to bite my lip hard to keep myself from smiling so hard it broke my face. Seeing a heart in a text message aimed at  _ me _ was something I could get used to. When I looked up, Eren was staring at me then at my phone. Slowly, I clicked it off and slid it into my pocket as if he might not notice it somehow if I didn’t move too much.

“Who’s that?”

“My lover.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s just Marco.”

“But… you two were fighting today.”

“Ever heard of talking it out?” Play it off, Jean. It’s not that big of a deal. Just pretend it doesn’t matter.

He stopped pacing and turned to face me. His green eyes were barely visible with how hard he was still squinting at me. “Wait. Did he come over and talk to you, or did you do it by text?”

I chose to plead the fifth. 

“Was it before or after--” he motioned to my neck, “that?”

No reply.

His eyes widened to the size of the moon, I swear. “Unless it was  _ Marco _ .” It was almost comical how I could almost see the cogs whirring in that thick skull of his. Steam all but blew out of his ears. If it wasn’t for me not wanting him to know, I would’ve laughed at his expression. 

“So what if it was?”

“ _ Jean. _ ”

“ _ What? _ ”

“How does Marco of all people do that to, well, to _ you _ ?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His hands scrubbed his hair. “It means I can’t believe that you let him do that. You’re, like, super private and weird about anybody getting in your personal space bubble.” He paused. “Then again, we all know you have a weak spot for Marco.”

I held my hands up. “Stop. Wait. Who’s everybody?”

He started ticking names off his fingers. “Me, Armin, Mikasa, Sasha, Connie, Historia. Even Ymir could see it.”

I groaned. If somebody as dense as Ymir could tell I had a soft spot for Marco, then there was no telling who else had figured it out. 

“Basically all of us, but we didn’t think you and Marco would actually hook up. Actually, no. Sasha thought you would. Her and Connie had a bet going. He didn’t think you two would hook up until we’d graduated.”

I covered my ears. “La la la la la. I can’t hear you. Shut up, shut up, shut  _ up _ .”

Eren just  _ laughed _ , that asshole. “Oh my god. This is fantastic.”

My face was undoubtedly red again, and I wanted nothing more than to go back inside and pretend he’d never come by. “I swear to god if you tell anybody I’m going to bust your kneecaps.”

“Whatever, Jean.” The last of his laughter died off. “I literally still can’t even believe this is a thing.”

“I’m going inside. Get off my property.” I walked toward the door.

“Was it, like, in your bed?” Eren obviously didn’t know how to take a hint no matter how obvious I was being. “Or on the couch? Was it somewhere else?”

“Good _ bye _ , Eren!”

“What abou--”

I shut the door in his face.

Sighing, I leaned back against it and let my head bump the wood. Thankfully, Mom didn’t come around the corner to talk to me again because I really didn’t think I’d be able to do it. I could still hear a hint of Eren’s voice as he talking to himself, but it slowly disappeared when he realized I really wasn’t going to talk to him again, and the sound of his car pulling out of the driveway replaced it. 

Even though he could be a handful, I was grateful it wasn’t my father. 

I slid my phone out of my pocket and texted Marco back before grabbing my stuff from the kitchen. On the way up the stairs, Mom yelled, “Dinner in ten!”

“Alright, Mom,” I hollered back. 

Dinner was uneventful. Mom asked how Eren was doing and why we were yelling so much. I just reminded her of how loud Eren had a tendency to be. She agreed with me. “It would be nice if he came over more often. He’s such a sweet boy.”

I stabbed at a piece of potato. “That’s definitely not how I would describe Eren,” I muttered to myself, popping the forkful of starch in my mouth.

Mom swatted at me. “Oh, hush. He’s been nothing but kind whenever I’m around.”

“Yeah, that’s cause you’re an  _ adult _ .”

“You are too,” she pointed out even though she seemed upset about it. Not in like  _ god dammit I hate this fucking kid _ \--not gonna lie, I’d hate my kid if they were anything like me--but more like  _ I’ve raised this human being for 18 years, and he’s going to be leaving me soon _ . Thankfully, she didn’t cry like the last time she brought it up. 

“Yeah, but I’m not, like, a real adult.”

She arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “What is a real adult?”

I waved a hand. “Anything that isn’t me and the people in my class.”

This caused her to laugh. “Oh, Jean. Trust me, some days it doesn’t even feel like  _ I’m _ a real adult.”

I guess that made sense. There wasn’t really a distinct point when you switched from being an adolescent to being a full-fledged adult. What even constitutes when you become an adult anyway? Paying taxes? 

I helped Mom clean up the table when we were done, and since I felt like shit for not being much help the past 48 hours, I actually washed the dishes myself. It was obvious that Mom was surprised even though she hid it well. She was drying off the dishes I was washing when she said, “Would you be upset if I dated somebody?”

I blew some soap suds off my arm. “You’ve dated people before, haven’t you?”

“Well, yes, but I’ve never brought them home to meet you or Jakey.” Jakey was her nickname for my brother. He always insisted that he hated it, but we all knew he was just as much of a mama’s boy as I was. 

“Sounds like it’s serious. So are you asking if I want to meet your boyfriend?” 

She huffed. “I never said I was dating somebody.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, okay. If you say so.” Before she could say anything else, I continued. “I wouldn’t mind. Jake will want to meet him too, I’m sure. Maybe you could have him pick you up for a date when Jake’s home.”

You know that cliche in movies where the dad is polishing his gun out on the porch or on the couch when the daughter’s date comes to pick her up? That’s exactly what Jake would do. When I told him about how Dad had left because he’d cheated on Mom--he was at a friend’s house or something when the whole fight had happened--he was so pissed. Since then, he’s gotten protective. In his eyes, Mom is somewhat fragile and needs somebody to look out for her. While I understand where he’s coming from, I don’t agree. In my eyes, our mother is an extremely strong, independent woman, and nothing can break her. 

“Oh god. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yes.”

She laughed and kissed my cheek. I went through the whole “ew, gross, Mom cooties” act. “I might bring him home before our date on Saturday.”

“Thought you said you weren’t actually seeing anybody.” I grinned at her.

She swatted at my arm. “And  _ you _ are supposed to be nice to your mother!”

I laughed and started draining the water out of the sink. “Love you too, Mom. Can’t wait to get to meet this guy.”

She was obviously thinking about protesting again, but she also must’ve realized I wasn’t going to believe anything she said, so she just huffed. “You’re so stubborn.”

I kissed her temple. “Gee, I wonder where I got it.”

I could still hear her muttering under her breath about how she “raised me” and “this is what I get?” but I knew she was kidding, especially when she came in and kissed me goodnight later. 

**Author's Note:**

> Part three????????


End file.
